


A Paradise of Shadows

by shelny18



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Character, I have no idea where this even came from, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelny18/pseuds/shelny18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is a university student running a revolutionary political group above the Musain Cafe. One night a cynical stranger attends and to everyone's surprise, including his own, comes back the following week, and the week after...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Paradise of Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> So I was cleaning out my school computer a couple of weeks ago and found this. I honestly have no recollection of writing it, but I must have done as no-one else knows the password. As I've been too busy to actually write recently, I instead found an hour in which to attempt to edit this so it could be posted.
> 
> Title is a quote from The Brick, from the chapter M. Madeleine in Mourning. "Let us remark by the way, that to be blind and to be loved, is, in fact, one of the most strangely exquisite forms of happiness upon this earth, where nothing is complete....One sees nothing, but one feels that one is adored. It is a paradise of shadows." is the shortened version of the paragraph.

The meeting had gone well, Enjolras decided as he looked round the room. Everyone had completed their tasks to his satisfaction, Bahorel had kept his messing around to a minimum, and most of the newcomers had agreed with what he said, to the point where many were now talking to Combeferre and Courfeyrac in order to find out more.

All, in fact, bar one.

The man in question had been led in by their barmaid then left alone, and the oly movements Enjolras had seen from him all night was the lifting of his glass and the small smirk on his face.

Crossing the room towards him, Enjolras sat opposite. "What do you think of all this then?" he asked out of curiousity. Most peoples faces he could read but not this one.

"You're all fools," the stranger replied bluntly. "A bunch of students will never change anything."

"So you would suggest just letting the government fuck us over."

"What else can we do?" The man shrugged. "In the end, everybody dies and we'll all be equal then. Until then, all I ask for is a quiet corner and a full glass. I can at least get one of those here." And, raising his glass in a silent toast to Enjolras, he drank deeply.

"If quiet is what you desire, why not just leave?" Enjolras practically snapped. "That way no-one's time or space is wasted."

"I would but, alas, dear 'Chetta left me here whilst she continues with her work. Seemed to think I needed to listen to you though God only knows why."

His answer baffled Enjolras but the blonde said nothing in reply, instead just nodding curtly as farewell and striding away. The small frown of confusion on the cynic's face was missed as Enjolras joined a group of his friends and began giving orders for the next week, already pushing the newcomer to the back of his mind. He had more important things to worry about.

* * *

"So what do you think of him?" Musichetta inquired as she cleaned around the cynic.

"Who? The man with the musical voice? He's delusional but a good speaker. I'll bet it doesn't take much for people to follow him."

"Will you come again?"

He considered his answer carefully, swirling what was left of his drink as he did so.

"Maybe. If I've nothing better to do."

"Which you never do," she replied laughingly.

"I wouldn't mind listening to him again," the man admitted, ignoring her response. "It was a mighty fine speech."

"I'll bring you here for next week's meeting then," Musichetta promised. "Now let's get you a lift home."

* * *

Enjolras couldn't believe his eyes upon seeig the cynical stranger from the week before already sat at the back table when he arrived. Making his way over, Enjolras spoke somewhat harshly.

"I never thought I'd see you here again."

"I could say the same thing," he chuckled in reply, clearly enjoying a private joke.

"Why are you here?"

"To be convinced."

Enjolras left it at that, Feuilly arriving and hailing him at that time, but at the end of the meeting he made his way back over. "Are you?" he asked simply.

"Not yet," came the reply, a half-smile on his lips.

This continued for weeks. Each time Enjolras arrived the man was already in place, a full bottle of wine in front of him. At the end of the meeting Enjolras would make his way over and ask those two simple words, and every time he got the same two word answer. This exchange soon came to be followed by a debate though, arguing every point Enjolras had made and why it would not work. And, every single time, the man was still sat there when Enjolras was packing up to leaving, insisting he was okay no matter how many offers Enjolras made to stay.

Then came the time when Enjolras entered an empty room. He couldn't quite explain the feeling of disappointment he felt deep in his gut, instead choosing to ignore it and get on with setting up.

The table remained empty throughout that night and Enjolras couldn't help but wonder why. He considered asking if anyone knew the reason until he remembered the problem with this plan - he still did not even know the man's name. He lingured when packing his things away but the man still did not appear.

Nor was the cynic in his seat when the next meeting started, and Enjolras was starting the worry. He'd barely begun speaking however when the door slammed open and he appeared, bottle in one hand, glass in the other.

"Sorry I'm late," he said with a smile in Enjolras's direction as he slowly made his way across to his usual seat. "Please, continue. Did I miss much?"

Shaking his head in reply Enjolras restarted his speech.

Making his way over to the back when he'd finished, Enjolras quietly sat down and softly asked, "Are you?" He was surprised to see the man jump before replying with his usual words and smile.

"Not yet."

"We missed you last week," Enjolras continued.

"Liar. You are the only person inside this room whom I speak to, so the we is most definitely not true."

"Fine," Enjolras retorted. " _I_ missed you. Happy now?"

"Unbelievably," he chuckled.

"Where were you?" the blonde enquired.

"It occurs to me that that is a personal question coming from someone who is practically a stranger - I mean, we have talked together for months yet still do not know each other's names."

"Enjolras," he replied instantly, holding out his hand and trying not to feel insulted when the other man ignored it.

"Grantaire. I was at the doctors. Nothing too serious but nevertheless unavoidable."

"You know, tonight was the first time I've ever seen you walk anywhere," Enjolras commented lightly.

"Trust me when I say there is nothing wrong with my legs."

"So what do you feel I was wrong about tonight?" The question brought them back onto familiar territory, and Grantaire was quick to pick up on it and reply.

* * *

"Who is the man you talk to after every meeting?" Combeferre asked finally, several months after Grantaire had started attending meetings.

"Grantaire," Enjolras replied absently. "He's cynical and jaded and drinks too much but he's also clever enough and sometimes makes some good points. Those talks of ours help improve my arguments even."

"Well maybe you should introduce us sometime. I mean, it is slightly ridiculous that he's been coming so long yet only knows you."

"Next time," Enjolras promised.

He stuck to that promise, beckoning his friends over once their debate was almost over the following week.

"Grantaire, these are my right-hand men," he explained, introducing each in turn. Joly, the medical student who was utterly convinced he was about to die, though the disease responsible changed on a weekly basis. Bahorel, the university dropout who somehow made enough money to survive though no-one actually knew what he did for a living other than drink. Feuilly his foster brother, the orphaned carpenter unsure of his nationality and left knowing only that his parents were from somewhere in Eastern Europe. Bossuet, the unluckiest man in the room yet a business manager all the same, and Jehan, the romantic whose dream was to publish a book or earn his own fairytale ending. Grantaire listened to all the introductions with a small smile on his face, though he once again shook none of the hands offered. Marius was off with an old friend doing work for them Enjolras explained then, but he was as much a part of Enjolras's main trio of friends as the next two men Enjolras pulled forwards next.

"I've known Combeferre all my life," he said, indicating the studious-looking man on his left. "He's studying philosophy and history. Courfeyrac however wants to be a lawyer and at the same time shag anything that moves, so you have been warned."

Grantaire let out a bark of laughter at that.

"Well as you've all been so charmingly introduced, I suppose I should have a go myself," he started. "I'm Grantaire, though buy me a drink and you may call me R. I'm a singing teacher. Not quite what I planned when younger, but dreams don't always work out the way you plan them. Least not in real life."

The group wasn't quite sure what to say in response to that until Feuilly laughed, clapped Grantaire on the back and asked if he would please teach Bahorel how to sound less like a strangled cat. The resulting brawl between the two broke the ice and Grantaire was soon laughing and joking along with the rest of the group.

* * *

The next meeting was the first time he didn't sit alone, instead being joined by Jehan and Bossuet. He enjoyed the company, chatting away as he drank his way through the bottles of wine people kept placing in front of him, but when an hour had passed since the end of the meeting and stil Enjolras had not spoken to him, Grantaire began to miss the speaker and wish he was still sat alone.

Finally he heard the chair next to him scrape back, about five minutes after the others had left, and Grantaire lifted his head so he was looking straight ahead at Enjolras.

"I thought you were ignoring me," he murmured, deviating fully from their normal conversation for the first time.

"Maybe I just wanted to talk to you alone," Enjolras replied softly, leaning back in his chair. "As much as I love my friends, introducing you to them last week felt like introducing you to family, only a family who will probably end up taking up a lot of your time if you let them. I've got to be honest though, much as I love them I'd still rather keep our conversations private."

"I rather agree." Grantaire paused. "So what do you study?"

"Politics and history. Did you ever go to university?"

"I wanted to. My dream was to become an artist, but things happened and I ended up on this path instead. So what, you want to change the unfairness of the world by becoming prime minister?"

"Maybe." Enjolras met Grantaire's mocking look steadily, eyes showing his conviction clearly. "Or by starting a revolution and helping the people to rise up." Grantaire couldn't stop his snort of laughter at that but for once Enjolras ignored it.

"What is your favourite colour?" Grantaire asked finally, Monty Python style.

"How is that important?" Enjolras replied, completely confused by what he thought a pointless question.

"It's just an extra detail to help me get to know you," the singing teacher shrugged. "Something not too intrusive but personal enough. If it helps, mine's green. Emerald green to be precise. That dark yet bright dreen, the really vibrant one. You know the one I mean."

"I think so," Enjolras lied. In reality he hadn't a clue. Green was green and colours really weren't his forte.

"Liar," Grantaire chuckled, picking up on this easily.

"Red," came the answer finally, after a few moments consideration. "Why do you always insist on drinking so much? I mean, ten different people bought you a drink today. I counted. Your table is covered in glasses and bottles of various varieties - why?"

"Eleven." Grantaire corrected, putting off answering the question for as long as he could. "I bought the first bottle myself. And besides, it's rude to refuse a drink when someone has already bought you it."

"Then explain every other week you've sat here drunk on several bottles of wine."

When he realised that Enjolras was not going to give in waiting, Grantaire sighed.

"Life sucks okay? It's horrible and fucked up and there's sod all you can do about it. So I drink. I drink to forget. I drink to be numb. I drink so that for at least a few precious moments I can feel normal, even though I never again will be."

Enjolras wanted desperately to take back the question or ask what Grantaire meant by that but instead he took a step back, out of overly personal questions and onto safe ground.

"What's your favourite band?" the blonde asked quietly, not quite meeting Grantaire's eyes for fear of what he might see there. Grantaire latched onto the questions like a drowning man thrown a lifebelt, sighing with relief. His pain and drinking were far from being his favourite topics of conversation.

* * *

It was many weeks before that topic came up again. They still had their old routie of question, answer, debate, but it was either preceeded or followed by a "getting to know you" session as Grantaire had once called it (or rather sang, though he still refused to tell anyone what musical the song was from despite all their best attempts and guesses).

The university's summer break was fast approaching and Enjolras was discussing meetings in September when Grantaire stumbled in, almost an hour late and with a bottle of wine firmly clutched in one hand. Murmuring apologies for his tardiness Grantaire walked straight into the nearest table, disorienting himself enough that he just stood there in shock, unsure of where to go.

"You're drunk," Enjolras accused, glaring at the man.

"No, I'm not."

Ignoring Grantaire, Enjolras ranted on.

"This is no place for you to be in a state like this. This is our inner sanctum, where we can make our plans to help people and strive towards a better world. For you to show up here, already drunk at only six pm, you are polluting not only this space, but also more than that and in fact because of that you are polluting that very thing which we fight for. It's pathetic how you cannot even manage to cope without a bottle of something in your hand to ease the way along. Everyone else can manage to survive perfectly well without it, what's so different about you that you have to have-"

"Enjolras that's enough," Combeferre interrupted upon noticing how pale Grantaire had gone, his voice quiet but instantly silencing his friend who instead simply glared at Grantaire, who was standing there numbly.

"I swear to God I'm not drunk," Grantaire insisted weakly but Enjolras refused to believe him.

"Walk in a straight line then."

Grantaire hesitated. Slowly he stepped forwards, but one hand was half-extended and searching for the next table in his path. To Enjolras this was simply proving him right.

"Someone help him home," he said scathingly, turning away and therefore missing the agonised look which flashed across Grantaire's face before he managed to control his emotions moments later.

"No need," he replied as Combeferre stood. "I can manage. Good night friends." And with that Grantaire left.

"You were too harsh on him," Courfeyrac chastised later on.

"He's right," added on Combeferre.

"Maybe," the blonde admitted with a sigh. "He shouldn't have been turning up here drunk in the first place though."

"He wasn't drunk," butted in Joly. "Trust me on that, I've seen him drunk and he can still walk fine. That table tonight removed all his confidence. He almost looked terrified when you told him to walk."

"So I'll apologise next week."

"Apologise?"

Turning, they saw the barmaid standing in the doorway. Musichetta stalked slowly towards the friends, glowering at Enjolras as she went.

"You can do more than fucking apologise," she snarled. "You never even gave him a chance to explain. He wasn't drunk, that bottle was the first drink of the day and he hadn't even touched that when you threw him out. His problem was that a table had been moved by the new barmaid without warning him. That's why he walked into it and didn't want to walk later on."

"I-I don't understand," Enjolras stammered.

"He's blind you fool!"

Those four words stunned Enjolras and brought everything to light at the same time. For the first time everything Grantaire had ever said and done made sense. "I need to see him," he whispered. "I need to talk to him."

"I highly doubt he wants anything to do with you," Musichetta said coldly. "If he does then he's as fool as you."

"I need to talk to him," Enjolras repeated, more firmly this time. "Please. This can't wait until the next meeting. I need to talk to him alone and now."

"If you think I'm giving you his addres-"

"Goddammit I need to make this right!" The shout shocked Musichetta into silence, Combeferre shaking his head at Courfeyrac when he opened his mouth to comment. The barmaid studying the politics student for a few minutes before speaking, her voice softer this time.

"Flat 2A, Fairfield building, Castle St," she told him, clearly still reluctant. "He may not want to listen to you right now though."

"Then I will leave when he asks, but I have to try." Glancing round the room at everyone, he settled on Combeferre. "Will you please sort my things? I'll collect them from you tomorrow. Good night people."

* * *

Enjolras hesitated outside the building, working up the courage to press the button. When Grantaire eventually spoke he sounded exhausted through the crackling of the speaker.

_"If that's you 'Chetta, I don't want to talk. Cosette, can you please call back tomorrow? I've had a bad day. Anyone else, piss off."_

"It's me," Enjolras said softly. He was answered by silence. "Please talk to me Grantaire. I fucked up, I know, and I'm s-"

_"Don't."_ Grantaire cut him off harshly, sighing afterwards. _"Not over this shitty speaker, okay? I guess you'd best come on up. First floor, first flat after the stairs."_

"See you in a minute," Enjolras replied automatically as the door buzzed and clicked open. He climbed the stairs slowly, not eager to reach the flat and start the confrontation. Knocking as quietly as he could on the door, he paused when he heard the call to "Come in", almost rethinking. What he saw on the sofa made him regret every harsh word he'd ever spoken to the man he'd been starting to consider a friend.

Grantaire was curled in on himself, an open bottle of beer set in easy reach on the table. Enjolras's only relief was that it was still full, and there were no empty ones in sight. "Hi."

"Hi." Grantaire's voice was dull and the resignation Enjolras heard there broke something inside the blonde. "Will it win me any points if I tell you I've yet to have a drink still?"

"You don't need to win points, but yes." Enjolras hesitated by the couch. "May I sit?"

"Well there's no point you being uncomfortable," the brunette shrugged. Once he was seated Enjolras reached out, stopping himself just before he touched Grantaire's knee.

"I'm so, so sorry," he whispered. "I didn't realise. Ignorance is no excuse, I know, but I have to apologise somehow." Jumping to his feet again, Enjolras started pacing, one hand waving as he spoke, words getting faster and faster. "Why didn't you say something? Everything makes perfect sense now, every little thing that confused me before is explained. If you had told us, I would have been more understanding."

"You're harsh to everyone," Grantaire pointed out bluntly. "Always."

"Then I would have tried to be less so," Enjolras corrected himself.

"But that's exactly what I try to avoid." Grantaire sat upright as he responded, turning so he was facing more towards Enjolras and the centre of the room. "I don't want you to treat me any differently. And let's be honest, people say they won't but as soon as they know you're blind they act like you can't do anything pretty much, like you're special in some way. I need to be treated the same, do you understand?"

"Perfectly." Sitting himself next to Grantaire again, Enjolras stretched out his hand again, this time taking Grantaire's in his. "I just need to apologise. I was overly cruel, with or without adding in your blindness."

"Well I shall consider accepting your apology." Reaching out himself with his free hand almost unconsciously, Grantaire touched Enjolras's cheek before pulling away completely and walking to the far side of the room. "You'd probably best go, before anyone gets worried."

"There's no-one to get worried," Enjolras said dryly, but he still stood and headed for the door. "I'll make sure the tables don't get moved again," he promised. "And that no-one else knows, other than those few of us who were around tonight."

"Thank you. Good night Enjolras."

"Good night Grantaire."

* * *

It took many weeks for the rapport between the two men to grow stronger again, and for the first couple of meetings after The Event (as it came to be known by close friends) Enjolras and Grantaire didn't even talk properly, instead just exchanging awkward greetings. Truth be told the blonde was just grateful that Grantaire had come back, and having almost ruined everything between them one he was glad to have a second chance.

Eventually though he made his way over and took his usual seat and asked "Are you?" quietly. When he saw the smile cross Grantaire's lips he found himself as well.

"Not yet. How are you?"

"Okay. You?"

"Meh. I was hoping to talk to you actually. I wanted to invite you round one evening. For dinner or something."

Enjolras's breath caught slightly, and Grantaire stiffened, fearing the other man would refuse.

"I'd love to," Enjolras replied almost shyly, smiling even though Grantaire couldn't see it. He could hear the smile in his voice though. "When were you thinking?"

"Wednesday?"

"Perfect. I'll be there for seven."

* * *

Enjolras was early but Grantaire didn't care, smiling as he let him into the small flat.

"Make yourself comfy, I'll sort you a coffee. Best present my sister ever got me was my coffee machine. Stick the cup under and press a button, it's perfect. Gives me my caffeine fix at any rate."

"You ramble sometimes, you know that?" Enjolras said with a smile, wanting to lean over and kiss Grantaire when he blushed slightly. That feeling scared the student however. He wasn't used to being attracted to others, at least not this strongly, but he had to admit that there was a part of him wanting Grantaire to like him back, wanting this to be more than just a dinner between two friends but more like a date.

"Sorry," Grantaire muttered, hurrying from the room. When he came back he sighed and sat on the sofa, holding out one of the cups for Enjolras to take and hoping he was holding it in the right direction. "We need to talk," he said quickly. "Because I am nearly twenty-five years old and you're making me feel like I've never dated anyone, ever, and if I'm honest it's a little annoying because I don't really know what to say to you sometimes. Like now. I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks- hell, months really, but I couldn't even do it when asking you to come for dinner. Gods be good, I don't even know if you swing that way."

"I do," Enjolras supplied helpfully when Grantaire paused for breath. "And if you do get round to asking, the answer would be yes."

"And besides I- What?" Grantaire blinked in shock. "Yes?"

"Yes. Does that make this a date?"

"I... I guess so."

Leaning forwards Enjolras brushed his lips across Grantaire's lightly.

"Then let's make sure it's a success shall we? Come on, what're we eating?"

"Chinese. There's a good takeaway round the corner." Grantaire had the grace to look sheepish. "Cooking isn't easy for me."

"I can only imagine. I mean, I struggle and I've fairly good sight, though that could have more to do with my inherited truly terrible kitchen skills." Enjolras chuckled. "Chinese sounds good though. You can never go wrong with Chinese."

Later on, when they were once again sat together on the sofa though much closer this time, Enjolras asked the question which had been bugging him for a while.

"How long have you been blind for? If you don't mind me asking that is. Because you said once that you wanted to become an artist but that things happened. I'm guessing what happened is that you lost your sight, but I'm intrigued as to how. I mean, your eyes look fairly normal"

"I was twelve and my artwork was my life," Grantaire replied slowly. "My one dream was to one day visit a gallery and see one of my works on the wall, for people to have actually heard of me and recognise my paintings. Then there was an accident at school and my eyes got hurt. Nothing too serious, I could still see okay, but then an infection spread and my sight steadily worsened and worsened. Turns out there is absolutely nothing wrong with my eyes, but the synapses connecting my eyes to my brain no longer work. I was completely blind, my dreams over before I was even a teenager. So I focused on other things. I couldn't write but me and a friend had taught ourselves to touchtype once so I could still do my essays and schoolwork. I'll admit I was never a great reader but braille was the one thing I always struggled with, to the point where I haven't touched a book in two years. But my hearing just kept getting better and better, because I relied on it more and more. I'd always loved music and one day I asked my teacher to give me singing lessons."

"And you got good enough to teach others," Enjolras correctly assumed.

"When you can't see there's nothing to distract you from listening to your student, so you can hear and correct any errors. Plus it's enjoyable, and still creative. Singing appeals to the artist in me."

"How do you manage to not be bitter about it all?"

"What's the point? Won't change anything."

"You said you drink to feel normal," Enjolras recalled. "How do you mean?"

"Because it's something that affects me in the same way as everyone else."

"That makes sense." Twisting, Enjolras looked down at Grantaire's pale blue eyes, finally noticing how he would stare at one place for too long but how his eyes would automatically flicker whenever he heard a noise, as if he could still see whatever had caused it. It made him feel even more protective over the older man, though he knew Grantaire would hate that. Instead of saying anything else he kissed Grantaire, happy to let the brunette reach over, take hold of his arms and tug him into his lap. As the kiss deepened he tangled his fingers in the dark brown curls, tugging slightly to earn a moan from his boyfriend and pressing himself just closer still. Pressed together they happily spent the rest of the evening on the couch, and when it came time for Enjolras to leave it was with reluctance and a borrowed scarf to hide the marks he could already see showing up on his neck.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Enjolras double checked. "At the meeting?"

"I'll be there," Grantaire promised. "Like I would miss it now."

* * *

The two men still debated after every meeting, still argued about every point Enjolras made, still start every post-meeting conversation with the same old words they'd been saying for over a year, but subtle things changed. Grantaire moved from his table at the back to one closer to Enjolras. Both arrived earlier and left later, taking the chance to spend more time together. Grantaire interrupted Enjolras more and more often, smirking as Enjolras retorted heatedly. He ingratiated himself into the student's friendship group more, happily welcoming any of them to sit at his table and chatting away with them until late into the night, though he would always make sure he had time for Enjolras at the end.

All of the friends were happy for the couple, to the point where both men were inundated by poems from Jehan and advice from Courfeyrac (both of which normally made them blush). Musichetta took her time accepting the relationship, glaring at Enjolras every time she saw him until finally one night she was talking to Bossuet when the blonde joined Grantaire's table and placed his hand on top of the other man's, leaning over to kiss his cheek as he laughed at something Feuilly was saying. When she saw how Grantaire's face lit up Musichetta finally softened towards the student, though she never apologised for how she'd treated him before. In her eyes, he deserved it.

The barmaid wasn't the only person to have a problem with Enjolras he discovered upon visiting Grantaire one day, pausing when he saw the woman leaving his boyfriend's flat. When she caught sight of him she scowled, though the expression did nothing to affect the beauty present on her face though.

"You must be Enjolras." Disapproval dripped from every word. "The political wanna-be-revolutionist who put 'Taire in such a state that he phoned me at God-knows-what-time-at-night crying because you called him pathetic and refused to even listen when he tried to explain things."

"I-ah... um..." Enjolras thought back to that night, trying to remember the name Grantaire had said through the intercom. "Cosette?"

"Correct. He's waiting for you." When Enjolras moved to walk past her she grabbed his arm. "Hurt him and I will end you."

He had no doubt she would.

"Who's Cosette, your sister?" he asked as he entered the flat, making Grantaire raise his eyebrows.

"No, she's a nursing student who volunteers at the local hospital. I met her at one of my appointments, we've been friends ever since. I take it you just met."

"She hates my guts," Enjolras grumbled, wrapping his arms round Grantaire's waist and sneaking a quick kiss. "Can we go out tonight? I don't care where, I just need to get out. I've been stuck inside all week working on some politics essays."

"And whose fault is that?" Grantaire laughed. "Of course we can, though in response to your first statement, Cosette does not hate you. She's simply worried that you'll hurt me."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Worried that I'll hurt you." Enjolras was as blunt as ever, surprising Grantaire.

"Hell no. I trust you with my heart, and I'll explain that to Cosette for you. You'd like her normally, she's quick and interested in politics. Agrees with a lot you say actually."

"For some reason that doesn't reassure me," Enjolras commented dryly.

"Before we go, I need to do something." Grantaire sounded nervous and this showed as he reached out slowly, touching Enjolras's cheeks with trembling hands. He took his time, fingers growing bolder as he traced the lines of his boyfriend's face, Enjolras doing his best to keep as still as possible. "I love your nose," Grantaire finally murmured, placing a light kiss on the tip of it as his thumbs rubbed against its sides. His fingers were dancing across Enjolras's face now, growing more and more confident with each movement. "If I could still see I would draw you until there were no materials left in the world." He frowned. "Is this where you tell me you've got some hideous defect I can't feel or something?"

"None that I can think of," he replied very matter-of-factly, never having cared enough about his looks to be proud of them and not even realising his words could be taken as being vain. "Is that important?"

"You could have your pick of anyone I'll bet." Enjolras sighed at Grantaire's tone of voice.

"But I don't want anyone," he pointed out exasperatedly. "I want you, in case you hadn't noticed." He kissed Grantaire again, more firmly this time. "Understood? Just you. Now can we please go out? Because I am really getting quite hungry."

* * *

Combeferre was surprised when Grantaire called him over one evening. Out of all Les Amis those two had conversed the least but Combeferre still went and sat with him instantly. "Is everything okay Grantaire?"

"Everything's fine. You've know Enjolras the longest, yes?"

Combeferre nodded. "We've been friends since we were four."

"How... How often does he date?" Grantaire hesitated and almost thought better as he spoke.

"Rarely. He often says he doesn't have time to date because of his work, that he didn't want to be distracted. I've got to admit that while I used to agree, I've changed my mind since he started dating you. He actually relaxes occasionally now, and it's doing him some good. Was there anything else about him you wanted to know?"

Grantaire paused again. "Could you please describe him to me?" he murmured. "It doesn't have to be a fancy description, I'd just like to know at least the colour of his hair and eyes." Understanding perfectly Combeferre started speaking, putting as much detail in as he could because he knew that would appeal to the artist Grantaire still was. By the end Grantaire was smiling. "He sounds beautiful," he whispered.

"He is. Courfeyrac once called him a god amongst men, for both his looks and his speeches." Combeferre laughed. "You can imagine how pleased Enjolras was at that."

"Courfeyrac's right. He sounds like Apollo."

"If you call him that, you're a braver man than me." Seeing Enjolras heading in their direction Combeferre quickly stood. "I'd best be going. I'll see you next time Grantaire."

"Hello 'Taire," Enjolras greeted his boyfriend, kissing his cheek as he slid into Combeferre's newly vacated seat. "I've some bad news. My mother wants to meet you."

"Why is that bad? Does she have a problem with you being gay?" Grantaire desperately hoped that wasn't the case. Enjolras's amused tone answered his question before his words did.

"No, but if she likes you she'll be planning our wedding within moments, and I fully believe she'll like you."

"Then let her plan. We don't have to pay any attention until if we're ready. Besides, it's been nearly four months. I'm interested to meet your parents. You don't talk a lot about them."

"Mother," Enjolras corrected. "My parents divorced years ago, and I haven't had contact with my dad since I started university. Besides, I haven't exactly heard a lot about your family either."

"My sister lives in America with her husband, my parents in the North. I don't see them often." Grantaire half-smiled. "I guess I don't see them at all anymore really. But no, being serious now, they rarely come down to London and I never travel up there. They'll probably next come down here at Christmas time."

"Do they have a problem with us two?"

Enjolras sounded worried and Grantaire smiled properly, reaching out in the direction of his boyfriend until the blonde took the hint and his hand. "Not at all. In fact they're looking forward to meeting you. Something about me not normally even mentioning boyfriends nevermind introducing them." Grantaire rolled his eyes. "They'll likely fuss worse than your mother ever could."

"Well I look forward to meeting them anyway."

"They're planning on meeting each other's families," Combeferre murmured as he sat next to Courfeyrac. "This is getting serious."

"If it makes you feel any better, they haven't fucked yet," Courfeyrac said conversationally, ignoring the look of exasperation his friend gave him. "So it's clearly not that serious. I mean, I've met your family and vice verse and we're not dating. Meeting the parents is only important if you're fucking."

"Tell me, have you any tact or manners in there at all?" the studious boy asked dryly.

"Nope!" Courfeyrac announced cheerfully, grinning at Combeferre. "I like R, and they make a cute couple. Let them be all serious and meet each others families. If it means R will be sticking around for a while, and Enjy will stay all relaxed sometimes instead of constantly stressed, then I am all for it."

* * *

When Enjolras caught sight of Grantaire at the protest he scowled and pushed through the crowd to reach him. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he hissed, glaring even though he knew Grantaire couldn't see him.

"Supporting your cause," Grantaire replied easily.

"You don't even believe we'll achieve anything!"

"But I believe in you, and if you believe in this then I'll be here for as long as you need me."

"I don't need you, not here. All I'll do if you're here is worry because you can't see to keep yourself out of trouble. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt. Grantaire! Where are you going? Dammit man come back here! At least let me find someone to make sure you get home safe."

For Grantaire had stopped listening after the first sentence, instead turning and pushing his way through the crowd. "Shit," Enjolras whispered, following as best he could, worry clouding his eyes as he tried to keep up. The protest had been showing signs of becoming increasingly rowdy and violent, and the student had been nervous for the safety of some of his friends anyway, but with Grantaire those feelings were amplified. If things kicked off he would struggle to look after himself, and Enjolras wanted to make sure he was nearby until Grantaire had reached safety or at the very least someone the blonde could trust to keep an eye on him.

As it was though, Grantaire was far enough ahead that when the fight started Enjolras was cut off from him.

"Grantaire!" he yelled, searching round him desperately as the peaceful protest collapsed into rioting. Just as he thought he'd caught sight of the familiar brunette curls a fist connected with the side of his face and, for once caught unawares, he crashed to the ground. Enjolras stayed there for several minutes, lost in the melee as he tried to clamber back to his feet, getting halfway only to be knocked down again by strangers. Eventually Feuilly found him and hauled the slim student up, punching a middle-aged man as he tried to push past.

"Where's Grantaire?" Enjolras demanded instantly, eyes already scanning the chaos. "Have you seen him?"

"'Taire's here? Shit, no I ain't." Feuilly understood instantly Enjolras's panic. "You head that way, I'll head this, and if I manage to get clear of this mess then I'll call him." The carpenter grabbed his friend's shoulders. "He'll be okay Enj. We'll find him." And with that he turned and ran as best he could through the crowd, calling Grantaire's name repeatedly as he went.

Enjolras did the same in the opposite direction, panic rising in him more and more as he found nothing. When someone grabbed his shoulder he lashed out automatically, so distracted by his search that he'd felt the nose break under his fist before he realised it was a police officer. As the officer swore and hit back before arresting him Enjolras felt despair rise up, knowing for certain he couldn't find Grantaire now.

* * *

"Enjolras? Oh my God your eye, are you okay?"

"Marius," Enjolras forced out through gritted teeth as he paused in his pacing to take in the newcomer to his cell. "Shut up."

"What's wrong?" Marius asked instantly instead, grabbing his friend's arm and dragging him over to the bench, forcing him to sit. Enjolras's foot was jittery as he did so, clearly wanting to be up and moving. "What happened?"

"Grantaire was there and I lost him in the riot and now I don't know what to do and Jesus fucking Christ I'm terrified Marius what if he got hurt I mean he's fucking blind he's hardly going to be able to see the best path through that or avoid a punch and this is all my fucking fault he said he was there because of me and he ran off because of me so if he's hurt that's on my head and I think I love him only I haven't told him yet and I couldn't bear anything to have happened to him and-"

"Calm," Marius instructed, interrupting the constant flow of words. "And breathe. Slow down a little. So. Grantaire was there." Enjolras nodded, willing to let someone else take charge for once. That in itself scared Marius. "And you got separated. Did anyone else know?"

"Feuilly," he whispered in reply.

"Feuilly knows what he's doing, so that's good." Sitting next to Enjolras Marius hesitated then wrapped an arm round his shoulders. "He will be okay."

"So everyone keeps saying but we don't know that!"

"Well there's nothing we can do in here," Marius said sensibly. "Once we're out we can organise a proper search party, if he hasn't already been found. Until then, I suggest you sleep because I know for a fact you didn't last night." Shrugging off his coat he glared at Enjolras until the blonde curled up on the bench, placing the coat over him once he'd done so. He couldn't sleep straight away but he rested, though his mind kept whirring through scenario after scenario until finally he drifted off into a light slumber.

* * *

The noise of the cell door banging open woke them both instantly, the two men jumping to their feet and turning to face the copper standing there.

"You," he growled, crooking a finger at Enjolras. "You got bail."

"What about my friend?" Enjolras asked without moving. "Combeferre would post for both of us."

"Clearly your sister doesn't care about him. Now move!"

Enjolras stared at him in shock, his lips silently mouthing 'Sister?' when he heard the voice.

"Really officer, there is no need for such rudeness." The sister comment made sense when Cosette stepped into the dooway next to him and looked Enjolras up and down, a dark look in her eyes which only faded when she saw Marius standing just behind him. "On second thoughts, him as well. I'll pay his bail too." She narrowed her eyes when the policeman looked like he was going to refuse. "Or do I need to bring Javert into this?"

"The Chief Superintendent is far too busy to be disturbed about the likes of him," he reassured her quickly. "I'll fetch them both through to reception for you."

"Thank you officer."

Once they were leaving the building Cosette raised one eyebrow at Maris. "Well?"

"Sorry," he said, shrugging and kissing her cheek quickly. "It's not like I tried to get myself arrested."

"Wait, this is the girl you keep on ditching us to see?" Enjolras interrupted, eyes wide. "Bloody hell."

"Where is he?"she demanded then, turning to face Enjolras and ignoring his previous comment. "I thought he'd be with you."

"We got split up." His voice was defensive. "I don't know where he went."

"You what?!" Her glare darkened. "He's not answering his phone and he wasn't arrested, and I have visited every place in this city which he frequents. I trusted you to look after him! So come on then. What other bright ideas have you got?"

Holding out his hand for Marius's phone, Enjolras quickly dialled a number. "Joly, hi. Yes, I'm fine, Marius is fine I'm with him at the minute. Look, I need you to ring St Julian's. You're there already? Brilliant, can you find out for me if Grantaire's been admitted? Thank you." Tossing the mobile back, Enjolras looked over at Cosette again. "He's in the hospital with a broken arm. Are you going to rant at me a bit more, or can we just go straight there?"

"I told him to stay away from you, I told him he'd just get hurt, and I warned you what would happen if you hurt him! You're no good for him! He needs someone who can love him, not a man-child who only cares about his fucking revolution. If you loved him an tenth of the amount he loves you then you'd never have left his side earlier but would have protected him against anything, because although he would never admit it and hates to hear it he's more vulnerable than others, and you're supposed to be the one keeping an eye out for him because _that's what boyfriends do_!"

"Oh please, tell me what you really think. Don't hold back," Enjolras snapped, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Don't you dare say I don't love him and abandoned him, because I tried everything to find him again. That's why I got arrested, because I punched the copper who tried to stop me from pushing through the crowd!"

"Will the pair of you please stop bickering," Marius sighed, looking from one to the other as he lowered his phone from his ear, the phone neither of them had even heard ring nevermind noticed him answer. "I get it, you both care about him, but this isn't helping. Enjolras, your mother wants to talk to you." He held the phone out to the blonde who took it dumbly and stared at it as if it were a bomb about to go off. "She saw you on the news and is worried because you and Combeferre aren't answering your phones. My advice is that you talk to her, calm her down and then follow us to the hospital, where the pair of you _will not argue_. Comprende?" Both nodded almost sheepishly. "Good. We'll see you soon."

"Mother?" Enjolras asked almost nervously once they'd left, slowly lifting the phone to his ear and wincing as Elizabeth Enjolras set off. "I'm fine mother, my phone is just out of battery" he insisted when she paused for breath. "But no I will not stay away from these protests in future, particularly as I set half of them up. In fact, I shall continue to attend and speak at them until the Earth is free, because the people have a right to a voice and at times it seems like no-one else is willing to take on that role." He did however understand that she worried because he was the last person she really had left in the world and so he followed the words up with promises to inform her whenever there would be another protest, that he would stay away from anything violent, that he wouldn't get hurt. He decided he'd leave the news that he'd got arrested for another night. "Look mum I need to go. Grantaire's broken his arm and I'm on my way to the hospital to see him. Yes, of course I'll pass on your best wishes. Yes, I'll ring you back later. Or tomorrow, it'll depend how Grantaire is. Okay then. Yes yes, I love you too. Bye." Shutting Marius's phone with a deep sigh, Enjolras closed his eyes and composed himself for a moment before surprising everyone near him by suddenly bolting for the nearest main road. He needed to find a taxi, and fast.

* * *

Grantaire was arguing with a doctor when Enjolras first arrived and so the blonde didn't interrupt but waited impatiently by the door, listening.

"I'm sorry Mr Grantaire, but I simply cannot let you go home tonight. What with your condition-"

"My blindness," Grantaire interrupted, barely concealed fury in his voice. "You can say it you know. I'm not a child. Because I'm blind, you don't think I'll be able to look after myself. Well I've been coping perfectly well for the past thirteen years thank you very much, and I will manage now as well."

"But Mr Grantaire," the young doctor protested, clearly wishing someone else had this job. "Everything will be much harder with your arm in a cast. We prefer that patients with broken limbs stay in overnight anyway, with you I must insist that it is a necessity."

"What if he had someone with him at home?" Enjolras asked and entered the room fully, Grantaire stopping with his mouth open and ready to speak when he heard the voice.

"Then I might consider allowing him to go home, though it would be prefered if that person had some medical background. He also has a serious concussion."

"One of my best friends is a trainee doctor, at this very hospital in fact. If there were any problems he could be there in five minutes." Enjolras ignored the annoyance and almost anger he could feel being projected from the bed and focused instead fully on the doctor.

"Possibly. Who are you?"

"William Enjolras, his boyfriend." Enjolras did his best to look responsible when the doctor looked him up and down, though he knew the black eye and other facial bruises he could feel appearing detracted from that image.

Finally the doctor nodded. "Then so long as you are with him until the concussion has gone, he may go home."

"Thank you doctor," Enjolras smiled, heading over to the bed.

"What the bloody hell do you think that was?" Grantaire hissed once the doctor had left, already throwing back his blankets and trying to climb to his feet.

"Me giving you a get out of jail free card," Enjolras replied calmly, reaching over to try and help Grantaire. His heart sank when Grantaire pulled away from his touch, though he almost stumbled and fell doing so. "Are you okay?"

"I'm pissed with you," Grantaire said instead, sinking back to sit on the edge of the bed and resting his head in his hands, looking more depressed than angry.

"Why, because I didn't want you in a place where you might get hurt?"

"I've already given Cosette the lecture on how I can look after myself, do I really have to repeat myself or do you think you could just pretend you were here for it? Besides, I don't need someone else to fight my battles for me."

Sighing, Enjolras moved and sat next to the man he hoped was still his boyfriend. "Try and see this from my perspective," he said quietly, not making any moves to touch Grantaire yet. "I got overprotective, I know. I have a controlling side, I know that as well, and that side of me often makes it difficult at protests and rallies because I want to be able to protect everyone I care about. And every time I've failed at that, whether it was Bahorel getting tasered or Courfeyrac's nose being broken or any of the other injuries my friends have sustained, it makes me all the more determined that I won't fail the next time round. But if I'm that protective over my friends, who are admittedly like family but friends nonetheless, imagine what I'm like when it comes to the person I love. So yes, you can look after yourself, but I knew that place was ready and willing to become dangerous and I needed to get you safely out of there, because I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you Grantaire." Enjolras's voice cracked towards the end and all of a sudden two arms were round his chest and a head pressed into his shoulder, out of which came the muffled words "I love you too." At that his own arms tightened around Grantaire and he held the older man, both sitting there for several minutes without moving.

"You said you didn't need me," Grantaire mumbled finally as he pulled away.

"I will always need you," Enjolras whispered in reply, cupping Grantaire's cheek in one hand and kissing him sweetly. When Grantaire's free hand came up to hold Enjolras's own face though, thumb brushing against his nose and under an eye, the blonde stiffened slightly, only just stopping himself from wincing.

"Are you okay?" Grantaire demanded, fingers hovering over the area, clearly itching to try and work out what was wrong but not wanting to hurt Enjolras anymore. "What the hell happened?"

"I'm fine," Enjolras insisted automatically but Grantaire just raised his eyebrows.

"No you're not. It's in your body language and your voice that you're not. Your posture stiffened, you moved away and now your voice is trying to stay light and relaxed but there's still a hint of pain in there." Grantaire gave a small smile. "You learn to pick up on things like this when you can't see expressions. You can never hide emotios from a blind man."

"I got hit a couple of times, it's nothing." Secretly though Enjolras was glad Grantaire was having to be left-handed for the night, as he could feel an even bigger bruise on that cheek, one he wouldn't have been able to disguise if Grantaire had touched it. "Let's just get you home okay. We can talk there."

* * *

"The hospital rang my parents," Grantaire sighed, putting down the phone as Enjolras entered the room and sat next to him. "They're taking your side that I shouldn't have been there."

"I liked that you came," Enjolras admitted, wrapping an arm round his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. "True I freaked because I was scared of you getting hurt, but I was glad you came nonetheless. Just, in future, please stick near me."

"Deal," he mumbled, sinking further into the embrace. "So what had your mother to say about you getting arrested?"

"She, ah, doesn't exactly know yet. And if I'm lucky she never will. She panicked enough the first few times."

"...How many times have you been arrested?"

Enjolras shrugged. "Combeferre probably remembers, he's normally the one bailing me out as he's rarely beside me in the cell. Unlike the rest of us he has a face the police trusts, and a DCI for a father. He's let me out without pressing charges a few times as well."

"Dating a felon." Grantaire chuckled. "My sister would find this hilarious, though my mother would be appalled."

"Then don't tell her." The kiss this time was to his lips, Grantaire instantly letting Enjolras deepen it as he twisted on the sofa, uncasted arm wrapping round his back and pulling him closer until Enjolras was lying on top of the brunette almost, holding himself up on his elbows.

"I love you," Grantaire whispered as he reached up and kissed Enjolras again and again, soft small kisses that made the blonde groan and tangle fingers in the brown curls before him, kissing him more firmly. The makeout session continued until Enjolras's fingers ghosted over Grantaire's crotch then pressed slightly, causing him to buck his hips and swear long and loud. "Bedroom," Grantaire gasped, forcing himself to pull away. "Now, because while I have nothing against letting you fuck me on a couch, the lube is in there." He paused. "That is, if you're ready." The bruising kiss he received was reply enough. They'd discussed sex early on in the relationship and Enjolras had been quite firm about his feelings on the matter - you have to be sure you love them. He'd had no problems with either handjobs or blowjobs, but they didn't really count. Proper sex was different. Sex for him wasn't meaningless as it was for some, but now that he'd finally confessed not only to himself but also to others (and most importantly Grantaire) that he loved him, he was more than ready to take the next step.

The pair practically fell into the bedroom, Grantaire's hand squeezing Enjolras's arse and winning a growl as the blonde kissed more aggressively in reply, pushing him back onto the bed and crawling up over him. Clothes were quickly removed, buttons flying everywhere as Grantaire got a little too eager in trying to help Enjolras with his shirt, but once both were naked Enjolras paused, drinking in the sight of his boyfriend. "You're beautiful," he murmured unthinkingly, gripping Grantaire's hip as he kissed him soundly.

Enjolras slowly but surely mapped out the lines and curves of Grantaire's body with his hands and mouth, taking the man in front of him to pieces when suddenly his touch vanished, only for one cold finger to brush against his hole gently but persistently. Grantaire breathed in harshly as he felt it press in, fingers gripping the sheets and wishing beyond anything that he could see Enjolras in this moment.

As Enjolras continued it was as slowly and surely as he'd done everything so far, with a confidence to his movements which he could honestly say he didn't feel inside. Grantaire murmured something coarse when Enjolras removed his fingers, hips automatically following and the blonde chuckled, patting his lover's hip reassuringly. "Condom?"

"Top drawer. I think." Grantaire shrugged, forcing his brain to work. "It's been a while." Enjolras chuckled again as he stretched over Grantaire to search and the brunette decided there and then that he could happily listen to that laugh forever more and never tire of it either, because to his ears it was the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. "Well? Did you find anyth-" His words were cut off by a gasp as Enjolras pushed in, uncasted hand coming up to encircle the student's arm and grip tightly, pulling him closer still. "Fucking move," he growled when Enjolras paused to let him adjust to the feeling, wrapping his legs around his waist and shifting his hips desperately, voice swapping to an almost-whine. "Please." Once more the blonde laughed, a happy sound as he started to thrust, going deeper and deeper each time, Grantaire's hips rocking up to meet his.

"I love you," Enjolras repeated over and over as their holds tightened and their movements quickened, before reaching down and kissing Grantaire deeply, fingers wrapping round his cock as he did so and stroking in time with his thrusts. It wasn't long until Grantaire was coming with a long drawn-out moan, the clench of his internal muscles around Enjolras helping to pull him over the edge as well, the cry that spilled from his mouth sounding half a curse and half the older man's name. "I love you," he repeated breathlessly, pressing his face into Grantaire's neck as he collapsed next to him, one arm slung over his boyfriend's waist. It was Grantaire's turn to smile and laugh quietly, turning onto his side and snuggling closer.

"We should probably clean up," he mumbled, "before we fall asleep and this goes all disgusting."

"You're already falling asleep," Enjolras replied, noticing Grantaire's eyelids drooping and feeling his own wanting to follow. Sighing deeply he forced himself to rise and grab a towel from the bathroom, cleaning himself off before heading back through to Grantaire. "Wakey wakey," he said in a sing-song voice as he lay back down next to him, running a hand through Grantaire's tangled curls and pressing a kiss to where sweat was still sticking some of those curls to his forehead as he stirred sleepily. "Fine. Sleep then. I'll just leave you like this till morning."

Despite his words Enjolras started to sort Grantaire out anyway, kissing him tiredly once both were ready for sleep. "Now you can sleep," he told him, wrapping his arms round Grantaire and smiling when he nestled his head on the blonde's shoulder. He continued speaking in the hopes it might lull him off to sleep as well as his boyfriend. "Hell now we can both sleep. If my back stops hurting that is. Whoever kicked me there did a good job, I'll give them that. That's why I didn't want you there you know. Because I could see and I am covered in bruises, and you've ended up with a broken arm and these protests can be dangerous. Next time, if you insist on coming, stay by the speaker's podium with me, that way I can keep an eye on you okay 'Taire? 'Taire?" Realising the brunette was asleep, Enjolras kissed his hair and pulled the long-forgotten quilt up over them both. "Good night Grantaire," he whispered.

* * *

Grantaire was gone when Enjolras awoke next morning, and the blonde quickly rose and dressed, only hesitating for a moment before throwing on Grantaire's hoody and a pair of his sweatpants. As he padded silently from the room he heard the sound of singing and smiled, heading towards it and the kitchen. Enjolras paused in the doorway and smiled fondly as he watched his boyfriend moving round the kitchen with ease, singing as he did so.

When he finished Enjolras clapped, making Grantaire jump and drop the spoon he was holding.

"Cough or something before making sudden noises," Grantaire grumbled, though he didn't complain when Enjolras pulled him into a quick and impulsive kiss. "Breakfast?"

"I'll sort myself something after. How long have you lived here?" he asked curiously, keeping his hands resting lightly on Grantaire's hips as he did so.

"Since I was nineteen, so nearly six years now. Why?"

"Watching you here, it's easy to forget you can't see. I mean, at mine or at the Musain you walk pretty confidently these days, but you know your way round this place like the back of your hand."

"It took three years of bruised shins before I stopped tripping. I'm better at learning new places these days, but at the time it was pretty damn painful everytime I forgot something." Grantaire grinned cheekily at Enjolras. "Any chance of you finishing breakfast?"

"Well it's not like I love you for your cooking," Enjolras laughed, kissing him again. "Sit, and I'll do my utmost not to poison you."

"You know, I'd forgotten just how intense sex is when you can't see," Grantaire commented randomly about ten minutes later, making Enjolras choke on his omelotte.

"I, uh, okay. I guess. I wouldn't really know. Um, is this a normal topic for your breakfast table?" Enjolras raised one eyebrow at how hard Grantaire was laughing. "What?"

"I have never heard you flustered before," Grantaire managed to gasp. "I didn't think it was possible."

"Everything is possible," Enjolras muttered, blushing furiously and relieved Grantaire couldn't see that. Clearing their plates he brushed his lips across Grantaire's as he passed, relishing in the domesticity of it all but commenting "You need a shave," afterwards.

"Aye, but I'm right-handed and I doubt Cosette will be willing to help today," Grantaire sighed. "She'd just say it's my own fault and I'd have to live with it."

"I'll help," Enjolras offered instantly.

"Maybe." At the sound of the buzzer Grantaire sighed and heaved himself out of the chair, hand ghosting along the wall until he found the button. "Hello?"

_"Morning Grant. Let me in, it's raining."_

"Fuck," Grantaire said lowly, face paling. "Why are you here?"

_"It's dad's birthday next week, remember? His fiftieth. And as it's just me you said I could sleep on your sofa till then. Now I repeat, it's raining, let me in."_

"Who?" Enjolras asked quietly as Grantaire sighed and hit the button.

"My sister," he replied grimly. "This is not going to be pretty." He frowned deeply. "Jackie is terrifying when she doesn't like something, and she is not going to be happy about my arm and yesterday."

"Little brother!" Grantaire's sister cried as she burst into the flat, instantly throwing her arms round her brother and hugging him tightly. "It's been three years since you came to visit me! Promise me you'll never leave it so long again." Pulling back she held him at arm's length and inspected him closely, eyes narrowing when she spotted the cast on his right arm. "Explain."

"I was at a protest yesterday and it turned violent," Grantaire shrugged, trying to seem nonchalent.

"You always said you'd never waste your time on something so pointless," Jackie practically accused.

"Well I changed my mind. Jackie, this is Enjolras, my boyfriend."

"The reason behind your change of heart?" she inquired dryly before turning and looking Enjolras up and down, leaving Enjolras feeling like a small child. "Hmph. Well he's good-looking enough I suppose, though he could do with a few less bruises. If he's to blame for you being at this protest however, I'm not sure I like him."

"I am right here you know," Enjolras pointed out, his own eyes narrowing now. "Keep this up and I'm not sure I like you either. Your brother is perfectly capable of looking after himself, and I plan for yesterday to be the last time he is ever away from me at a protest. That good enough for you?"

"I like him," Jackie grinned suddenly, confusing him completely. "He's the first of your boyfriends to answer back, and he's done you some good because you look relaxed and happy for the first time in years."

"I'm always happy and relaxed!"

"Liar. You aren't as good at pretending as you like to think Grant."

"Grant?"

"My sister is the only family member to understand my hatred of my first name, which no I am not telling you, but she refuses to call me by my last name. So, Grant," Grantaire explained quickly. "She doesn't like 'Taire either for some reason."

"It's a stupid name. Now listen here Enjolras. I may like you now, but hurt my little brother and I will most likely maim you." Enjolras didn't doubt her threat.

"Trust me when I say I have no intentions of harming your brother," he reassured. "I love him far too much to do that." Turning to Grantaire, he kissed his cheek quickly. "I need to be getting home, I have essays to finish for this week. I'll leave you to your sister, and I'll return the clothes soon, I promise."

"I'll see you later," Grantaire replied, smiling at where he thought Enjolras was stood. "Here, this is my spare key. Means you don't have to stand about in the cold as much."

Forgetting Jackie for a minute Enjolras pulled Grantaire into a deep kiss, murmuring "I love you" as he finally paused, foreheads pressed together and the sound of Grantaire's sister laughing in the background. "I'll call you tonight."

* * *

Christmas came and went, as did summer and the following Christmas, and by the time their third summer as a couple was drawing near Enjolras had all but moved in with Grantaire, spending less and less time with each passing week at the flat he shared with Combeferre though they never made it official. They still argued politics and revolutions but the end results these days were always bruising kisses and passionate lovemaking instead of raised voices and whispered apologies.

When Grantaire heard the flat door open that evening, after a fortnight of Enjolras staying out working late then either falling asleep at his or at Combeferre's, and Enjolras's voice call out, "I'm home," he was on his feet in seconds and by the door. Reaching out to pull his boyfriend closer he murmured "Hey" before kissing him long and hard, only pulling back when he realised the person before him was making no move to kiss him back and he heard a familiar chuckle to his right.

"Oh shit," he gasped, staggering backwards a few steps. "I am so sorry, I was distracted and only heard the one person and you bastard why couldn't you have told me sooner!" He muttered the last few words angrily, punching Enjolras on the shoulder.

"Ow," he complained quietly, rubbing the area quietly. "I was a little shocked, I didn't really expect you to kiss my best friend."

"Hi Grantaire," Combeferre said then, a still confused aspect to his voice, and Grantaire wanted to facepalm even more.

"Shit," he repeated. "I swear to God 'Ferre I did not know it was you, I am so sorry."

"That's okay. Now I should be going, I've a date tonight. Make sure Enjolras takes time off and actually relaxes this weekend please 'Taire, we've another busy week coming up I'm afraid and the fool is going to work himself into the ground at this rate. So goodnight to the both of you."

"You must have been distracted, I've never seen you make that mistake before," Enjolras commented dryly, leaning forwards and kissing his boyfriend's cheek softly. His exhaustion was clear in his voice and Grantaire quickly pulled him into a hug, leading him over to the sofa instantly after and letting Enjolras's head fall against his shoulder once they were sat. "'Ferre seems to think I've been working too hard," he mumbled, quickly starting to fall asleep in Grantaire's arms and words obscured as he yawned. "Ridiculous of course."

"Oh of course. Now shush and I'll wake you in the morning. I was going to ask you something but I suppose it can wait one more night." Enjolras's yawns were catching and Grantaire stroked his hair back softly as he yawned himself, drifting off to sleep alongside his partner.

* * *

The sun woke Enjolras early next morning and he groaned, shifting on the couch and regretting not staying awake long enough to shift to the bed as the aches in his back flared up.

"Morning," Grantaire sighed, nuzzling into Enjolras's neck as he attempted to ignore the twinge in his back as he moved. "Been a while since you've slept a solid twelve hours. I think that's your alarm going off in our room."

"Ignore it, it'll shut up soon." As silence fell again they exchanged lazy kisses, before finally Enjolras pulled back and asked, "Last night, didn't you say you had something to ask me?"

Grantaire laughed. "I had it all planned out and everything, but you know what they say about the best made plans and all that." Pulling away he headed over to the mantlepiece, feeling for then pocketing something unseen before turning back to his boyfriend. "First of, I wanted to officially invite you to move in." He smiled. "I know Combeferre has been thinking of asking Eponine the same thing but didn't want to do so in case you weren't happy about it, because of your things still being there and you still sleeping there sometimes."

"I'd say my answer is obvious," Enjolras replied with an easy smile. "Yes."

"Oh good, now for the second bit." Making his way back to the sofa Grantaire crouched before it and reached out his hand to Enjolras, tracing his fingers down his arm until they wrapped around his hand. He took in a shaky breath before continuing, clearly nervous. "I love you and want to marry you. Do you... um, would you permit it?" Scowling he shook his head. "By the gods that sounds so formal! It sounded better in my head I swear."

"Yes," Enjolras interrupted, other hand coming up to touch Grantaire's cheek. "Always. I love you." He grinned. "Besides, this is true love," he laughed, having heard Grantaire's rant on the film industry and its portrayal of love and soulmates one drunken night. "You think this happens everyday?"

"Shut up and kiss me," his fiance grumbled, though there was a smile on his face that nothing could shift that day.

Since the invention of the kiss there have been only five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most loving, the most pure. This one left them all behind.

**Author's Note:**

> And just quickly, yes I stole the last couple of lines.


End file.
